Cosmo
by modernxxmyth
Summary: Callie receives a pink poodle. Mark helps her take care of it. Ridiculousness ensues. Mark/Callie. Mallie one-shot.


**A/N:** This was written for the Holiday Armadillo fic exchange over at the Mark/Callie community over at livejournal. I was prompted to write a story involving a pink poodle and liquor. This is the result. Haha. Spoiler free. Just a Mallie one-shot.

* * *

_**Cosmo**_

Callie had inherited a poodle.

Not just _any_ poodle, but Callie had inherited a _pink_ poodle.

She didn't even like dogs.

Her great aunt had just died, and for reasons unbeknownst to her, her aunt had left Callie her poodle. She and her great aunt hadn't even been close – they only saw each other every few years and had nothing in common. Callie didn't understand why she of all people was the one to receive the poodle. Weren't they usually sent to the pound or something in these situations?

At work, she seemed distressed. She was muttering angrily under her breath in Spanish all day. She was certain she smelled like dog.

"Torres?" Mark approached her. "You alright?"

Callie blinked. "I've been better."

Mark walked behind her and started rubbing her shoulders. "What's going on?"

"My great aunt died and left me a dog."

Mark furrowed his brows. "I'm sorry about your aunt. I guess you don't like dogs?"

"I've never had a dog. But it's not just a dog. It's a poodle. A horrendous _pink_ poodle. I got it this morning."

"A pink poodle," Mark repeated slowly.

Callie nodded solemnly.

Mark's grip on Callie's shoulders tightened, and he let out a strangled noise. He could not hold it in anymore. Mark let out a loud burst of laughter.

Callie turned around and crossed her arms in anger. "Hey now."

Mark snorted. "I'm sorry. I'll stop. It's just…it's a pink poodle. And it's _you_. You don't even really like the color pink, let alone a pink poodle. Did your great aunt have any reason to hate you?"

"I drunkenly vomited into one of her vases about ten years ago, but other than that, no."

Mark pulled Callie into a tight hug. "I'm sorry. I've always been a dog person. Do you need some help taking care of it?"

Callie nodded into his chest. "Please."

"Alright. Don't worry. I'll help you out."

* * *

Mark and Callie headed to Callie's apartment together that evening so Mark could meet what Callie had dubbed "the creature from hell." He suspected she was exaggerating, but as they entered her apartment he wasn't so sure.

Her place was a wreck. There was pee and poop everywhere. Pillows were ripped up. There were potato chips scattered across the kitchen floor. The fridge was open. A pile of DVDs had been knocked over.

"Dear god," Mark whispered. "What _happened_?"

Callie proceeded to scream.

Mark grabbed her by the shoulders. "Cal, calm down."

"My-" she gasped. "My apartment!"

"You didn't put the dog in a crate?" he asked.

Callie shook her head. "I didn't know I needed to. I've never owned a dog before, Mark! Shouldn't it be trained or something! It's old!"

"Well, it's not used to living here, and you were gone at work for a long time…"

"Just _look_ at this! It's a mess. Look what she did to my pillows! There's pee everywhere!"

Callie started to cry.

Mark quickly pulled her into a tight hug. "It's gonna be okay. I'll help you clean up, and we'll take the dog out, and then we can go get a crate. Alright?"

Callie nodded meekly.

Mark took the dog out first while Callie got started on the apartment. The whole cleaning took about an hour and a half – the place truly was a wreck. They locked the dog in the bathroom for the time being while they went out to buy a crate. At least if it relieved itself, it would be easier to clean off of the tile flooring.

They came back an hour later to a thankfully still clean apartment. They let the poodle out of the bathroom and together took the dog out again, just to be on the safe side. Upon arriving back inside, they spent a good thirty minute period trying to keep the poodle off various furniture before eventually putting her in the crate for the night.

"So what should we call her?" Mark asked with a grin, glancing over at the poodle, who seemed to have fallen asleep.

"We have to name it?" Callie replied. "I don't even want it."

Mark laughed. "You mean she hasn't grown on you yet? She's grown on me. You'll come around."

Callie scoffed. "You don't own her. I'm the one who is going to have to put up with the damn thing."

Mark put an arm around Callie's shoulders and placed a kiss on her forehead. "It'll work out. Now what do you want to name her?"

Callie let out a groan. "I don't know. She's a pink poodle. Does it has to be something hoity toity?"

Mark let out a throaty chuckle. "That's the general consensus, yeah, but it's your dog. So…you don't want to call her Fifi or anything like that?"

She glared at him. "Do I look like the kind of person that would name a dog Fifi?"

"Well, you don't seem like the type to own a pink poodle to begin with…"

She smacked him lightly then sighed. "I need a drink."

Mark nodded. "Thought so. What do you want?"

Callie shrugged noncommittally. "Surprise me."

He fiddled around in the kitchen while Callie put on the television, settling on a rerun of _Friends_.

Mark came into the room a few minutes later, holding two cocktail glasses containing pink beverages.

Callie stared at him in dismay.

"Okay," Mark began. "If you tell anyone that I know how to make cosmos, I will kill you, but I thought the pink was fitting for the occasion."

Callie blinked. She took the drink from him and burst into a fit of laughter. "You…made us cosmos?"

Mark rolled his eyes. "Shut up. These skills come in handy with the ladies, you know."

Callie grinned. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. "And I'm certain you will like yours."

She took a sip of the drink. "Damn, that's strong. And it's actually really good."

Mark smiled smugly. "You're welcome."

Callie took a large gulp from her drink. "Are we going to have enough stuff to make more?"

"Sure we will. You can apologize for mocking me any time now."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, Mark. Your cosmos are very good. So good, in fact, that I would love it if you made me another one." She smiled sweetly at him.

"That's better. Yeah, yeah, I'll make you another."

He grabbed her empty glass headed to the kitchen.

They both had another couple cosmos over the course of the next hour and were feeling pretty good.

Taking another sip of her pink concoction, Callie gasped.

"What?" Mark asked.

"I know what to name the dog."

"Oh really?"

Callie nodded. "Cosmo."

"Cosmo? You want to name the dog after a drink?"

Callie grinned. "I want to name the dog after _this_ drink."

Mark tilted his head to the side in thought. "I like it."

"Good. So do I."

Callie walked over to the crate and undid the latch. Cosmo's blinked sleepily. Callie reached in and scratched behind the dog's ear. "Good Cosmo."

Mark looked on, visibly confused. "So now you like the dog?"

Callie shrugged. "I've had a few of these," she gestured to her now empty glass, "and she's not making a mess when she's in the crate, so yeah, I like her. Right now. Tomorrow will be another story."

She closed the crate again and sat down once more next to Mark, this time much closer. Their thighs were pressed up against each other, and Callie rested her head on his shoulder.

"Thanks for the help, Mark."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "No problem, Torres. You know you can always count on me to help whenever you have a problem. No matter how ridiculous that problem may be."

She looked up at him and smiled. "I know."

Mark grinned back at her.

Their eyes met, and Callie sighed pleasantly. She bit her lip and grabbed him by the belt loop, pulling him even closer.

Mark let out a low noise of approval.

Callie laughed a little breathlessly and looked up at him from under her lashes.

"Callie?" Mark's voice was raspy and cracked a little as he spoke.

"Yeah?" her reply with thick with lust and alcohol.

"Am I staying the night or what?"

She grinned and pressed her lips firmly against his in reply.


End file.
